


Hooking Up

by mrs_leary (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-12
Updated: 2009-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-28 06:32:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/mrs_leary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bradley is having his Devonshire horizons expanded by the Chilean hotness that is Santiago, more or less happily. Then they meet Colin via <i>Merlin</i>, and are both intrigued. But, alas, you know what they say about two being company and three a crowd…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hooking Up

♦  


## one

  
The first time Bradley ever did anything of a sexual nature with another guy was with Santiago Cabrera one night down by the river in the pub garden at the Crossed Keys. He had stumbled after Santiago’s beckoning hand into the darkness, assuming that his friend was simply proposing that they relieve themselves in the Thames rather than suffer the pub’s conveniences. But he soon found that the proposed naughtiness and relief were of a different kind altogether – though it still involved the unbuttoning and unzipping of jeans, and hands on cocks – a hand on each other’s cock, though, and as soon as Bradley got a clue, they made a fumbling happy laughing snorting kind of game of it. Tossing each other as if it were excellent fun. Which it actually really was. Messy and sheer good fun.

A contented Bradley leaned back against a tree trunk afterwards, with Santiago slumped against him, Bradley’s arms slung loosely around his friend and Santiago’s hands warm at Bradley’s waist under his t–shirt. He was glad it was so dark, cos he thought he was still blushing. Devonshire boys weren’t meant to do this sort of thing. Were they? Oh, it had been fun, though, and Santiago was a good mate – and, well, _hot_ – not to mention rather more exotic than Bradley. Obviously Chilean boys were a lot more adventurous than their English counterparts. The river flowed strong just a few feet away, and the night air had a kind of softness about it, which meant it was spring, and the stars were just visible through the London haze.

Another pair – a man and a woman – wandered down towards the riverbank hand–in–hand with similar intent, but saw the two shapes pressed together under the tree, and tactfully detoured elsewhere. Though Bradley was sure he and Santiago couldn’t have been identified – even as two men, let alone with names, ranks and serial numbers – Bradley’s blush deepened, and he gently put Santiago aside, did up his jeans.

‘Did we just hook up?’ Bradley asked with a laugh. ‘How cool is that?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Santiago said a bit drily, ‘very hip, very American.’ He did up his own jeans, his fall of dark hair hiding his face. It was hard to make out any details, but Santiago’s shoulders seemed a bit dejected.

‘You OK?’ Bradley asked, though he was cowardly enough to hope that Santiago would either honestly answer _yes_ or lie. What a schmuck he was! But Bradley suspected that this Devonshire boy already had plenty to be dealing with just now.

‘Yes.’

A moment’s relief.

But then Santiago stepped closer once more, whispered, ‘Bradley…’ and pressed their mouths together.

Bradley pressed back hard, though he didn’t move his lips or let it become a real kiss. He soothingly stroked Santiago’s hair. The older man had amazing hair, thick and barely tamed. After a moment, Santiago pulled away again, having got the discouraging message. However, Bradley found to his surprise that he wasn’t quite as big a schmuck as he feared, cos he insisted on giving his friend a resounding bear hug, and he asked again, ‘OK?’

‘Yes,’ Santiago replied, quite genuinely this time.

‘Good. Thanks,’ Bradley added, cos that’s how he’d been brought up. ‘That was nice.’

‘You’re welcome,’ came the polite response. And they headed back into the pub. Where Bradley proceeded to get rather drunk. As did Santiago.

♦  


## two

  
And yet it continued from there, as the Devonshire boy discovered that even he had a little bit of the exotic in him. Tall tales yet true. They shared or traded hand jobs on a semi–regular basis, and Bradley got over his resistance to kissing Santiago so quickly that he wondered what on earth he’d been thinking that first night.

After a while they progressed to blow jobs – Santiago taking the lead one afternoon, without any kind of warning, just dropping to his knees to go down on Bradley – whose sense of fair play forced him to return the favour at the earliest opportunity. And the act really wasn’t as ghastly as he’d feared, and after all he’d always liked going down on women – though he really hated the taste of rubber, and suspected that even swallowing another man’s spunk couldn’t be half as revolting as the bitter tang of condom that lingered for hours afterwards. But he put up with it, because of course anyone liked to be competent at something, and Santiago’s initial encouragement and gratitude soon changed to genuine admiration for Bradley’s enthusiasm and developing talents.

A few weeks after that, Bradley was leaning back against the wall just inside his front door with Santiago kneeling at his feet, and all was proceeding as expected – but while Bradley wanted this very much, it was late, and he was so tired, and his knees were literally trembling with the effort of keeping the rest of him upright – and Bradley gave serious thought to the sofa just a few feet away in the living room, but he finally observed, ‘You know, we could actually go lie down on my bed. You know, I’m just saying.’

‘Yes,’ said Santiago, calm on the surface but all dark Chilean passion underneath. ‘Yes, we could do that.’

So that’s what they did, and bed somehow also meant naked, and Bradley was a bit shy about that – but he was proud of his own body, and Santiago’s was absolutely fine, very manly and strong and warm and brown – and being naked with someone was simply a delight in itself, wasn’t it? Bradley hadn’t felt any great expanse of anyone’s skin against his own for a long while, and as he felt it again now, even though this body in his arms wasn’t shaped quite as expected, he realised how much he’d missed _skin_.

They held each other close, and kissed, and Santiago suddenly groaned and lost it completely – rutted against Bradley’s hip, and came just like that, spurting hard and powerful, crying out for a moment before banking it all back down again. Bradley was as surprised as anything, but he was pretty cool these days, he wasn’t just the dumb blond boy from Devon any more, and he held Santiago afterwards, held him comfortingly and stroked his hair – until Santiago pulled away with his face averted, and bent over Bradley to finish what he’d started by the door with his mouth.

They held each other some more afterwards, and it was nice. But then Santiago murmured against his shoulder, ‘Bradley? Can I stay the night?’

And Bradley panicked for a moment, and said, ‘Uh…’

Santiago sighed, and pulled away. Got up and started collecting his clothes.

Bradley knew well enough by now that he always resisted at first, but eventually whatever it was just seemed to come naturally. Maybe he just had to get used to the idea. No doubt he owed it to Santiago to make an effort to speed up that process. ‘Sorry. Yes. You’d better stay.’

But a fully–dressed Santiago just smiled at him sadly, and kissed him farewell, and let himself out.

And Bradley missed his undemanding company all that long night. Which really just served him right, didn’t it? He didn’t make the same mistake again.

♦  


## three

  
Santiago won the part of Lancelot, which was just the coolest thing out. He was gonna be great! Within a day or so of him showing up on set in Wales, it seemed that everyone associated with _Merlin_ from the producers on down knew somehow that Bradley and Santiago were hooking up at every opportunity. At first this was horribly embarrassing, but very soon Bradley decided it was actually probably really cool, because people might think he had unexpected hidden depths or something. And, anyway, Santiago was pretty much the most gorgeous thing around – even hotter than Katie – and Santiago was _Bradley’s_. That was all good.

So, Tony and Angel just rolled their eyes and shook their heads fondly. Katie smirked, and laughed at him as if she wasn’t jealous, though of course she was. Richard mostly just pretended not to notice – though once he winked with mischievous reassurance when Bradley had been badly caught out, and Bradley tried not to think about Richard having had such adventures when he was young. As for Colin… Well, Colin was either completely cool with it, or completely oblivious, Bradley really couldn’t decide. But that was just typical, really. Colin Morgan was quite the enigma. Santiago thought so, too.

♦

It was later, in France, that the mystery of Colin Morgan became a bit of an issue. Bradley and Santiago were sprawled naked on Bradley’s bed, lying there head–to–toe for some reason, suffering through a hot afternoon. Bradley was thinking longingly of fountains and lakes and oceans and ice, and perhaps auditioning for some project that involved filming at the north pole, when Santiago asked, ‘Bradley. Do you ever hook up with Colin?’

‘No. No. Of course not.’

‘Why is that? Do you think he wouldn’t be into it?’

Bradley shrugged, which was probably lost on Santiago down the other end of the bed. ‘Actually, I don’t know. I can’t make him out.’

‘Me, neither,’ said Santiago.

Bradley thought back over the months. ‘When I first met him, I thought he was a complete innocent. You know? I thought maybe he wasn’t into _anything_. Of a sexual nature.’

‘Yes.’

‘And then as I got to know him, I started thinking maybe actually he’s utterly wicked, and into _everything_.’

A silence stretched for a short while. The heat pulsed around them. Snow, thought Bradley, and blizzards and hail and wet drenching rain…

Finally Santiago asked, ‘So, which is it, then? Nothing or everything?’

‘D’you know,’ Bradley confessed, ‘I really have no idea at all.’

‘You’ve been working with him for _ages_ ,’ Santiago protested.

Bradley sighed. ‘This one night we all went out for dinner, I’m pretty sure he hooked up with…’ He paused. A gentleman never divulged names. ‘A woman,’ he said. ‘I’m pretty sure he did. Well,’ he amended after further thought, ‘ _she_ seemed to have every intention of hooking up with _him_. But what do I know?’ Bradley shrugged again. ‘Maybe it didn’t happen.’ He was pretty sure the opposite was true, but Bradley concluded, ‘So maybe he’s a nothing kind of guy.’

‘Mmm,’ said Santiago thoughtfully. ‘We should find out.’

Bradley lifted his head to look at him. ‘Really?’

‘Would you mind?’

‘Would I mind what?’

‘If I hooked up with him.’

Bradley had never really thought of himself as the jealous type, but this huge flare of resentment cracked through his chest like sheet–lightning or something. Which was probably perfectly obvious in the glare he directed at his friend.

Santiago didn’t bat an eyelid, but offered in a conciliatory tone, ‘I mean, if I asked him to join the two of us sometime. Would you mind?’

Huh. Maybe he was just the ignorant sheltered Devonshire boy after all. A threesome, for god’s sake! With three guys! But Bradley had promised himself to be kinder to Santiago, and not resist the crazy notions which so far had always inevitably come to seem like really _really_ good ideas. ‘No,’ Bradley eventually said, ‘I wouldn’t mind.’ But he was just buzzing with unhappiness and irritation over the whole stupid thing, and he couldn’t quite work out why.

After a while he went to take what he hoped would be a refreshing shower. When the water wouldn’t get any colder than tepid, Bradley thumped the tiled wall _hard_ , and then had to fight back tears and curses at the pain in his hand. _Stupid boy!_ he chastised himself.

‘Bradley?’ came Santiago’s concerned voice.

Luckily Bradley had locked the door. He swallowed hard, cleared his throat. ‘I’m fine!’ he called reassuringly.

‘Bradley…’ Santiago said wistfully, so low that maybe he assumed Bradley wouldn’t hear.

‘I’m fine,’ Bradley whispered to himself. But he didn’t believe it either.

♦  


## four

  
The very next evening, Bradley was lying sprawled on his front with his head poking over the foot of the bed, leafing through a magazine which lay on the floor – when Santiago walked in. Bradley had been half expecting him, so had left a shoe propping open the door. Santiago walked in, and he was leading someone by the hand – and of course that someone was Colin Morgan. And it was perfectly obvious from their swollen lips and bright eyes and flushed cheeks that the two of them were fresh from a marathon kissing session, if nothing more. Bradley’s chest was suddenly flaring with lust and jealousy and resentment and confusion and sheer hungry desperate _need_ – and had he already mentioned lust? lust, lots of lust – and he propped himself up on his elbows, wanting to yell and shout and curse, though he had no idea what about –

But then, as Santiago was locking the door, Colin just came right over to Bradley with one of his mysterious charming happy smiles on his face, and he dropped to his knees by the bed – and his arms were circling Bradley’s shoulders, and that smile was drawing close, those blue blue eyes quite mesmerising – and Colin was kissing him, and it was just really awesome, really beautiful – and all the anger in Bradley melted away as if it had never even been there, and he was left with the lust and the need and the fear – though what could he possibly have to fear from this beautiful Irish boy who was kissing him with a gentleness and a thoroughness that promised so much…

Then Santiago was kneeling there taking both of them into his arms, and pushing his nose in, and they actually managed an odd kind of three–way kiss for a moment, until Colin fell away laughing at such nonsense, and Bradley dived after him, and they were all three of them wrestling and rolling and crawling round on the carpet, trying to get themselves and each other undressed in the shortest possible time and of course getting in each other’s way badly.

‘Bed,’ said Santiago, once Colin was left with only one sock on and Santiago’s boxers were somehow knotted around an ankle. Bradley scooped Colin up in both arms – he felt like superman just then, he knew no limits of strength – and held him curled up close to his chest for a delicious moment before dumping him on the bed and following him down, kissing him, arms and hands and skin hungry to explore him. Then Santiago was on Colin’s other side, just as hungry for the same thing – and Colin squirmed and stretched between them, laughing almost gurgling in utter _delight_ – and that was the exact word, Bradley thought. Colin was delightful, he was delighted, _he was a delight_.

Eventually all the kissing and touching and stroking and thrusting against each other – not to mention Colin’s laughs and gurgles and moans and groans, and the demands and praise he uttered in an accent that got thicker and thicker – had pushed them all to the point of wanting to finish, not only for the obvious pleasure but also so they could start all over again. Which was when Colin, not knowing Bradley and Santiago’s established parameters, said brightly with that wicked smile of his, ‘So, who’s gonna fuck me?’

 _‘ **Me!** ’_ Bradley blurted out.

Santiago stared across at him with a world of pain in his eyes. And it wasn’t cos he’d just missed out on Colin – Bradley wasn’t so dumb as to think that. ‘Sorry,’ Bradley offered with a grimace. ‘I’m a total schmuck.’

Colin was looking from one to the other of them, and no doubt it was perfectly obvious what was going on. ‘Hey, we don’t have to,’ he said with just the right shade of light concern. ‘We can do whatever you like. _You_ can decide.’

Santiago closed his eyes for a beat. And when he opened them again, he was cool again. And he smiled gently down at Colin, and said, ‘You must have whatever you want, my dear sweet friend.’

‘The last thing I want is to make you unhappy,’ Colin said to him. All this immeasurable fondness between them – where the fuck did that come from? ‘Either of you,’ Colin added, deigning to glance at Bradley before returning to his dear sweet friend.

Santiago chuckled low in his throat. ‘Oh, I think it would make you happy for Bradley to fuck you. And I think it would make Bradley very happy indeed. And of course whatever makes Bradley happy makes me happy…’

Bradley lifted up on an elbow, and leaned over to kiss the man. Not just to thank him, because he wasn’t even sure it was settled yet, and not just to apologise, but also to get a feel for how Santiago was actually feeling. Well, Santiago returned the kiss with interest, and he seemed really open, really relaxed. So Bradley figured it was all right to go ahead.

And when they parted and were still hovering there over him, Colin offered, ‘Hey, you could take turns.’ And Santiago smiled with a bittersweet kind of lust, and Bradley felt jealous as hell – but that seemed to be a solution they could all live with.

So, minutes later he’d geared–up, and was pushing into Colin from behind as they lay on their sides – and Colin was tight and delicious and moaning like he’d never felt anything as wonderful as Bradley’s cock up his arse, which Bradley didn’t _really_ credit – and Santiago was kissing Colin and stroking him, pressing against him, biting and caressing and provoking so that he moaned even more – and Colin squirmed between them, wriggled, twisting himself onto Bradley in ways that shouldn’t have even been possible – and Bradley was madly trying to think cool thoughts, mean thoughts, cold thoughts, nasty thoughts, because otherwise he was just gonna pop like a damp squib on new year’s eve, and it would all be over bar the laughter from these two sophisticated men.

But eventually Santiago reached across to shape a hand to his butt, and force him closer still, further still – and Colin reached an arm up and over his shoulder to drag Bradley in for a kiss – and Colin murmured, ‘Come for me, Bradley. Come inside me. Bradley, I want you to come… _now_.’

And he groaned in agreement, cos he wanted that, too, so very much – and then they were both touching him and caressing him, encouraging him – and he cried out, shouted out, and it was like all the fireworks from the new millennium from around the whole _world_ went off at once, and he jammed himself up into Colin with a sob. And it was the most incredible fucking thing in his whole life.

♦

Which was just as well, cos it gave him something to cling to as Santiago took his turn, and Bradley was full of fascination and fury as he watched Colin stretched out tall while Santiago thrust fast and deep and clever within him, as he heard those filthy moans and demands and pleas falling from Colin’s beautiful lips. It was obvious that both Colin and Santiago knew exactly what they were doing.

And Bradley’s current theory, now he had more information on which to base it, was that Colin was an anything–and–everything kind of guy, ready willing and able to go with anything any of them wanted. Though he was still a complete mystery, as he brought this fresh kind of innocence to every act, as if he were doing it for the very first time _ever_ – while also bringing this knowledge and unshockability to everything, as if he were the most experienced hussy in the whole world. Bradley still couldn’t make him out, but he knew he’d very much like to die trying.

Colin moaned again, and then his eyes drifted open. Those blue blue eyes pinned Bradley where he lay. ‘Make me come, Bradley,’ he demanded in that Irish accent all the thicker for lust.

‘What would you like?’ Bradley asked, in a voice that was embarrassingly husky. He didn’t bother clearing his throat, though.

Santiago was watching them intensely, dazedly from over Colin’s shoulder.

‘Kiss my mouth,’ said Colin. ‘Touch my cock. Tug on my balls.’

So he did, and it was heavenly, and Colin spilled over beautifully easily with a guttural moan, and that seemed to set Santiago off, and for long wonderful moments they were all there together, all three of them encompassed in one moment, one feeling, one place.

♦

Eventually, in the small hours, Colin tactfully took himself off, leaving each of them with a generous grateful kiss. When it was just the two of them, Bradley took Santiago into his arms, and held him close. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again.

‘I know,’ was the quiet response.

‘Look,’ Bradley said gently, ‘d’you want me to fuck you? D’you want us to start doing that?’

Santiago sighed. ‘Maybe once before I go. Not tonight.’

‘No,’ Bradley murmured, ‘not tonight.’ He was very tired, but he would have found it in him somehow if that’s what Santiago had wanted.

Just as Bradley was starting to drop off to sleep, Santiago said, ‘You like him, don’t you? You are smitten.’

‘No. No. I’m really not.’

Santiago said very sadly, ‘One day you will fall in love, Bradley. It happens to us all.’

And of course he knew that Santiago wished that it were with him. Bradley held him closer still, as sorry as anything.

‘You have a good heart, Bradley, and it is a strong heart, too. You don’t have to be so afraid of getting hurt.’

‘Is that what the problem is?’ he asked.

But Santiago didn’t answer. And soon sleep took them both.

♦  


## five

  
Santiago was back to being his cool calm confident Chilean self the next day. Bradley would have thought that would be a good thing. And it might have been if there wasn’t also this affectionate conspiracy going on between Santiago and Colin. The two of them spent half the day whispering in each other’s ears and laughing together. And then when they were finally all in bed together that night, the conspiracy continued, despite the fact that Bradley was in the middle of the threesome this time and really should have been the centre of attention.

It didn’t help that Colin’s humour was in full flow. He asked, tongue in cheek, ‘How many jokes about Devonshire cream teas am I allowed to make?’

 _‘None,’_ Bradley menacingly replied. ‘Absolutely _none_ at all.’

‘Not even if they’re about how scrumptious your scones are?’

 _‘No.’_

‘How we’re going to help you produce the thickest… richest… clotted cream…’

‘Just _shut_ it, Colin!’

‘I’m working on a line about jam, but I haven’t quite got there yet.’

‘Thank god for small mercies.’

Santiago was _giggling_ , for heaven’s sake. The oh–so–sophisticated Santiago was _giggling_. Though he soon announced something very serious and sobering. ‘Bradley, we have decided that we are going to fuck you.’

His mind went completely blank, and he shuddered. ‘No…’ But even in the shock of that moment, he knew he didn’t mean it.

They knew he didn’t mean it, either. But Santiago murmured, ‘Say that again, and we’ll listen. But we think you want this, Bradley.’

After a moment, he whispered, ‘Yes.’ They were decent guys, so it was only fair for them to know they had his consent. His eyes were closed, but he knew that Colin was in front of him, and Santiago behind. It was Colin’s lubed finger that first found its way inside him. And then, what seemed like hours later, it was Santiago’s lubed and rubbered cock that slowly pressed deep within.

His eyes were closed, and he was nothing but pliant flesh, and the two men moved against him, touching him, soothing him. He was nothing but the breath he drew in, and the hollowness that was filled. It hurt a bit at first, that was true, but mostly it was just uncomfortable, and he wanted it to stop, and he would die if it stopped, he would _die_.

Eventually Santiago came with a broken cry, and he was clutching Bradley up close, his breath sobbing in his throat as he said Bradley’s name over and over. And then Colin was soothing Santiago, and he carefully withdrew, and oddly the sudden emptiness hurt more than anything Bradley had felt so far. He cried out hoarsely, and the two men fussed over him.

‘Bradley,’ Colin whispered, ‘I won’t unless you want me to.’

‘Yes. Yes. I want you to. I want you.’

They swapped places, and then he was full again, and actually that was better, and even though he wanted it to stop, he was loving Colin’s filthy mutterings in his ear, and then Santiago did something strange and clever to him that sent him flying, and it was only afterwards that he realised he’d come, he’d come like he’d been soaring through the skies. It was the profoundest thing he’d ever felt.

And then at last they let him be. And when he came back down to earth he was just Bradley James again, aching and used and exhausted. But there were two men there with him who cared for him _so much_ that really nothing else could possibly matter. Everything was going to be fine.

♦

Except that it wasn’t. ‘You have to tell Colin you love him,’ Santiago insisted once the two of them were alone again. ‘You have to make this mean something.’

‘Santiago…’ he pleaded, too strung out to cope with this right now. ‘I never would have even hooked up with him in the first place, if it wasn’t for you.’

‘Yes, you would.’

‘No, I wouldn’t. _You’re_ the one who suggested a threesome.’ Bradley sighed. ‘I know I haven’t been what you want. What you deserve. But at least I stayed true to you. I promise I did. I never would have cheated on you.’

Santiago was lying there completely still, as if stunned. Eventually he pulled away, and sat up, and kept on considering this in silence with his elbows resting on his bent knees.

‘Don’t you believe me?’ Bradley eventually asked.

‘I believe you. I just… never expected that. I thought… this was a very casual thing for you.’

‘Well, yes, but I’ve been… You surprised me. It took me a long while to figure this out. I’m just a stupid boy from Devon, you know? I never thought I’d _ever_ be with a man.’

‘Yes.’

‘So, you need to tell me how we make this work now. I can’t promise any more that I won’t hook up with Colin. It’s been too intense, and you won’t be here, and I’m sorry, but things have changed now we’ve had him. But I am _not_ gonna say something to him that I’ve never said to you. I’m not that much of a bastard. Anyway, I don’t think I actually feel that way – and I can’t even _guess_ why you think that would help anything.’

Santiago was silent for a very long time.

Eventually Bradley sat up beside him, and slipped an arm round his waist. Shaped his hand to Santiago’s face, intending to bring him close for a kiss. Which was when he realised there were tears running down his cheeks. ‘Santiago…’ he whispered, his heart crushed in grief.

‘So close and yet so far!’ Santiago muttered ironically.

‘What’s that?’ Bradley asked, holding the man firm.

‘I, uh… I _have_ cheated on you,’ Santiago announced harshly. ‘I have been seeing other men. Not that it meant anything. But I cared a great deal for you, and I was trying to make myself care a lot less. It didn’t work,’ he added with a bitter laugh.

Bradley felt cold. He clung on, not understanding. ‘Santiago, please…’

Santiago shifted, turned his head towards Bradley’s, pressed hard against him. ‘Goodbye, Bradley.’

‘No, stay here the night. You’re not going until the afternoon.’

‘ _Goodbye_ , Bradley.’

‘Oh.’ He really was a complete and utter schmuck. ‘Goodbye, Santiago,’ he managed. ‘Thank you.’ And Bradley kissed him, as good as he knew how.

Eventually Santiago pulled away like he just couldn’t stand it any more, and he walked out.

♦  


## six

  
Santiago let Bradley give him one last big bear hug before he was driven away to the station. Then Bradley went back to the set. Everyone avoided meeting his eyes – except for Katie who gave him such a scornfully pitying look that he was doubly glad the others let him be. How did everyone _know_ exactly what was going on?

Bradley avoided Colin for a while, other than when they had to work together, but the two of them seemed fine together. Surprisingly comfortable.

On the third evening, Bradley went around to Colin’s hotel room and knocked on the door. Colin let him in wordlessly, and then padded back on bare feet to sit cross–legged on the floor at the foot of his bed. There was a novel waiting there, open and facedown on the floor, one of his weird novels. Colin didn’t pick it up.

‘So,’ said Bradley, just standing there restlessly with his hands shoved into his jeans pockets, kicking a toe at the carpet.

‘So,’ Colin agreed, nodding.

‘Uh…’ _Oh god._ ‘Santiago said he thinks I’m in love with you.’

Colin looked up at him. ‘Yeah? What do you think?’

‘I think he’s probably right.’ _God…_ He hadn’t even really _known_ that until he’d said it just now. But it would explain this storm of emotions that was too big for his chest. It would explain the sheet–lightning and the fireworks and the flying. The fury and the jealousy and the sheer utter _need_.

Colin nodded again. ‘Santiago is usually right, I’ve found.’

Bradley cleared his throat, absolutely terrified. Because he knew how much he’d hurt Santiago. And Colin could now do exactly the same thing to him. And if Bradley hadn’t trusted that Santiago was as noble and as brave as Lancelot, Bradley would have feared he was being set up for an awful fall here. ‘So, uh… How d’you think you feel? About me?’

‘I’m in love with you, too,’ Colin said, very steadily and honestly and openly, looking up at him with those blue blue eyes.

‘Good. That’s really very good.’ And the tension and terror melted within Bradley, melted away as if they’d never even been there. He took a moment to revel in the freedom of fearlessness, the giddiness of relief. Still, he had to say one more thing. Not that he was very worried any more about Colin’s response. But he had to make this clear before they went any further. ‘I can be a real schmuck, you know. And an idiot. I’m, uh… I’m still pretty clueless about all this.’

Colin went a bit distant for a moment, as if thinking or remembering. ‘I know,’ he said eventually. Then he was back again. ‘But we can all be schmucks and idiots. And Santiago said that actually you’re the most decent person he’s ever met. _Ever._ ’

‘Oh.’ Bradley felt very small just then.

‘I’ll take my chances,’ Colin announced.

So Bradley said, ‘I want us to be… I dunno… boyfriends, or something. Whatever you want to call it. But not hooking up. I don’t like the whole hooking up thing. It doesn’t seem to work very well. Or maybe I just do it wrong.’

And Colin was smiling, one of his sweet happy charming smiles, though there was a hint of wistfulness in there somewhere. ‘I would love to be your boyfriend, Bradley.’

‘Oh, that’s good. That is so good. I wanna be yours, too. Boyfriend, I mean.’ He was babbling. He tried to shut his mouth, but it just wouldn’t quit. ‘I love you, Colin Morgan,’ he found himself saying.

‘Come here,’ Colin said, patting the floor beside him.

Bradley almost stumbled over his own feet, he was so eager – and they ended up sitting there curled into each other’s arms, clumsy and wonderful and true. They kissed, with kindness and with passion.

And then Colin said, looking at him with a directness that might have scared the life out of him under any other circumstances, ‘I love you, too, Bradley James.’

‘That’s the most amazing thing _ever_ ,’ he whispered. And they kissed some more, as if that was really the only way to explore and express how really fucking amazing it was. And because the anger and the fear and the confusion and the envy was gone, Bradley’s heart was finally pure enough to offer to another person, so he did so. And everything was perfect.

♦

And yet everything soon got more perfect still. Because soon they were naked, and lying in Colin’s bed, and they were just moving against each other, thrusting slowly against each other’s hip. A careful version of what Santiago had done frantically the first time he and Bradley had got naked together. Frottage, it was called, Bradley had discovered afterwards. Awesome, it was, he reflected now. There was something very simple about it that got right to the heart of the matter.

Colin was solemn, those blue blue eyes watching Bradley, looking all the way inside him, more like he was in church or something than like he was just in love. But it was important that it be this way. It was as if they were promising something to each other. It took forever for the pleasure to build, but that was all right, too. And when the end came, it was the most quietly deeply intense thing Bradley had ever felt. Colin watched him through it, Colin was _right there_ within Bradley’s pleasure, and sharing his own. And it was done.

‘I love you,’ Bradley whispered afterwards. Not because it needed saying – it was already really really obvious – but because he wanted to reconnect with Colin back here on earth.

‘I love you, too,’ Colin said, with a smile. And the smile grew. And the solemnity faded away. And Colin was Colin again – an anything–and–everything kind of guy, wicked and sweet and funny and utterly adorable. And yet when Bradley checked to make sure, this new thing, this new profound solemn love, was waiting there just inside those candid blue eyes for him to see whenever he wanted. And he thought he was gonna want to see that a _lot_.

♦  


## seven

  
A few weeks later, when Bradley was checking his email, he noticed that Santiago was online, too. He almost sent him an instant message, but after pondering for a moment decided that a proper email message would be more appropriate. He wanted to say what he had to say clearly and formally, with no txt words and no emoticons. Hell, he wanted to spellcheck it, too.

So he opened up a new message, found the right address, gave it a subject line of _‘From the desk of the idiotic Bradley James’_ and then typed: _‘Santiago. I used to think that I was a bit of a schmuck around you, but of course I was actually a complete and utter arse. Lately I have realised the full and sobering extent of my utter arseness. I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m sorry. I should have let myself fall for you, like you deserved. Bradley’_

After about five minutes – which seemed like a really really long time – a reply chimed into his inbox. The subject line had been changed to _‘Thank you’_ and the message read: _‘Thank you, Bradley. Apology accepted. But if you’d fallen for me, you still would have met Colin, and I still would have lost you. Santiago’_

Bradley thought about that. He had once wanted to ask Santiago whether Chileans believed in Fate and True Love and stuff like that, but he had since realised that even Devonshire boys could feel the inevitability of things. Like Bradley loving Colin. It was inevitable. Tall tales yet true. He typed: _‘I’m still sorry. It shouldn’t have played out that way. And I know I missed something wonderful. I scored an own goal. But that’s not what I’m bothered about. I’m bothered about you.’_ He took a breath, and he clicked the send button.

He was relieved to get a quick reply. _‘It’s all right, Bradley. We all do the best we can. That good strong heart of yours is not hidden away any more. That is excellent, my friend. And I’m fine. I’m seeing someone. He’s not you, but he’s very nice.’_

Bradley snorted. _‘Nicer, probably.’_

 _‘Don’t beat yourself up. You don’t deserve it. But he’s nicer, yes. And that’s how it should be, my dear friend. I **should** think he’s nicer. I **do** think so. S’_

 _‘Yes. I’m glad. I’m happy for you. B’_

Ten minutes crawled by with no response. Bradley nodded to himself. No doubt they had now said all that needed to be said, and he should let Santiago get on with his life. He hoped that next time they met, the two of them would be friends. Not friends like before all this happened, but actually friends maybe even a bit better than before.

Just as he was about to shut down the computer there was a chime, and Bradley opened up his inbox again. There was a new message from Santiago, with no subject line. And it read: _‘Treat Colin well. He deserves you.’_

Bradley frowned in thought.

♦

He went to find Colin after that, and eventually tracked him down in the hotel’s lounge area, deep in another of his weird novels, with a pot of coffee on the table beside him. ‘Hey,’ Bradley said, dropping into the seat opposite.

‘Hey,’ Colin replied. He put his feet up on Bradley’s lap, and Bradley obligingly wrapped each sneakered foot in a hand – but Colin kept reading until he’d finished the paragraph or the chapter or whatever. Then he closed the book and looked up with a charming smile. ‘All right?’

‘Yeah.’ Bradley shrugged. ‘I’ve just been emailing Santiago. I apologised as abjectly as I could.’

Colin’s smile turned wistful. ‘That’s good. How is he?’

‘Fine, I think. Apparently he’s seeing someone.’

A chuckle. ‘You jealous?’

‘No.’ But Colin’s knowing amusement prompted the truth from him. ‘OK, yeah, a bit. But only the proper amount necessary to do him honour. Cos he _did_ mean something to me. You know?’

‘Yeah, I know. You’re a sweet and decent man, Bradley James.’

Bradley shook at those feet to make sure he had Colin’s full attention. ‘Santiago says you deserve me, Colin Morgan. Under the circumstances, do you think that’s a frightful insult, or maybe actually the best compliment you’ve ever been paid?’

‘Dunno. Frightful insult, probably.’ But Colin’s smile was slowly growing into the widest happiest grin Bradley had ever seen on him. He was beautiful, Colin was.

‘Take me upstairs,’ Bradley said. ‘Take me to your room.’ And he added, just in case it wasn’t totally clear, ‘Take me.’

Colin promptly stood, and held out his hand, looking just so thoroughly happy and so utterly beautiful – and then he led Bradley upstairs to his room to do just that.

♦

Colin Morgan filling him, completing him, making him whole. Colin Morgan kissing him, liking him, adoring him. It was the most awesome thing in the whole world… and it transformed the clueless boy from Devon into something truly wonderful that was maybe almost halfway good enough for the beautiful Irish man who loved him.

♦


End file.
